


Hayley's Shorties

by velveteenvamp



Category: American Dad!, Family Guy (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Baking, Bonding, Camping, Christmas, Dating, Fluff, Gen, Hayley the lounge singer, Holiday Season, Honeymoon, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurities, Insomnia, Jeff being a good husband, Love: AD Style inspired, Marriage, Multi, Near Death, Nerdiness, Presumed Dead, RPG References, Roger having a crush on Hayley, Sapphic, Scars, Sibling Bonding, Singing in the Shower, Stan and Francine being good-ish parents, The Kidney Stays In The Picture inspired, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wholesomeness, canon crudeness, father daughter bonding, matching tattoos, more Hayley and Stan bonding, paternity issues, sleeping troubles, they really do love each other!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:42:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 6,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25990786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/velveteenvamp/pseuds/velveteenvamp
Summary: An ongoing collection of Hayley-centric one shots because I can never get enough of writing her. Multiple pairings, crossovers, fluff, angst and more!
Relationships: Hayley Smith/Meg Griffin, Jeff Fischer/Hayley Smith
Comments: 13
Kudos: 16





	1. Breathless

**Prompt: Hayley giving person B a tight hug that makes them lose their breath.**

**[Stan + Hayley bond]**

* * *

It had been several weeks since Stan had left to go on a highly dangerous mission overseas. Hayley didn't express her anxieties in the same way that Francine did, but they were still there, nagging at her mind and causing her consecutively restless nights. It didn't matter how much she could clash with her father or how crazy they would drive each other sometimes, he was her _dad_ and she would take a bullet for him if it came down to it. 

There had been no communication for over a month, not from the CIA and not from Stan. Francine was the first to fear the worst as she always did whenever he was away for any extended period of time. But unlike those other times, worry soon seeped into everybody else's psyche, too, even _Roger_. After all, this was the longest that Stan had ever been away for without any contact.

Hayley tried to remain optimistic and put a brave face on for everybody else ~~\--~~ Francine was near inconsolable so Hayley stepped in as head of the house. It wasn't much, but she managed to put together some TV dinners and do what she could to help out. For the first time since they were kids, her and Steve spent the night together; he came into her room trying to hold back tears and she did her best to console him before they both fell asleep out of mutual exhaustion, arms around each other like vulnerable children.

But one day, a familiar car pulled up and out stepped Stan, right as rain and well as he had ever been. Though Francine got the first hug, Hayley got the second. She practically bulldozed into him and held him so tightly that it must have squeezed every bit of air out of his lungs. "Daddy, you're back!" Hayley breathed a visible sigh of relief as she smiled, all the tension she had been carrying just melting away.

Under any normal circumstance, Stan would have usually taken the opportunity to poke fun at his daughter for her bone-crushing hugs. But as she'd crashed into him, Stan had seen the pain in her eyes and the visible stress that she must have been carrying for all the time he'd been away. The hurt in his daughter's eyes wounded him more than any bullet ever could. Continuing the hug, he patted her back and returned the smile. "I sure am, honey. I sure am." 


	2. Tattoo

**Prompt: Hayley and Person B getting matching tattoos.**

**[Hayley encourages Jeff to get a matching tattoo with her]**

* * *

"Look, it's not a big deal, see," Hayley told Jeff as she pulled down her jeans in broad daylight, revealing a primitively-done peace sign tattoo right on the centre of her left asscheek. 

"But babe, I'm scared!" Jeff complained, visibly wincing. 

Rolling her eyes as she hoisted her jeans back up, Hayley gently took Jeff's hand. "I'll be with you the whole time. It'll only take a few minutes and I _promise_ that it won't hurt." 

Jeff wasn't going to back out now, he _couldn't_. The last thing he'd ever want to do was let Hayley down and he knew that she was right anyway. After all, she was the smartest person he knew. "Alright, let's do this!" he cheered, smiling as Hayley pecked his cheek before they went into the tattoo parlour together.

15 minutes later and they were out, with Jeff sporting a freshly done, rather red looking peace sign on his left asscheek. He had held Hayley's hand during the entire procedure and whimpered as soon as the needle had hit his skin. But, he was happy that he had gone ahead with it and there was no one else he'd rather have a matching tattoo with. 

"We should get a matching piercing next." Hayley said as she put her arm around him, eliciting a shudder from Jeff. 


	3. Naked

**Prompt: Person B getting shy about being naked in front of Hayley for the first time.**

**[Meg and Hayley]**

* * *

“Meg, what’s going on?” Hayley called out to her girlfriend who had been in the bathroom for a solid half hour. They were about to have sex for the first time—Hayley had long stripped down to nothing and was eager to go.

No answer.

Hayley sighed and gingerly pushed open the bathroom door to find a fully-clothed Meg sitting on the floor, knees to her chest as she hugged herself.

“I can’t do it, Hayley. I’m so fat and ugly, you’d probably puke if you saw me naked.” Meg whispered, tears welling up in her eyes.

Wordlessly, Hayley sat down on the floor next to her and put an arm around her shoulder. “Meg, I like you just the way you are and I think that you’re _beautiful_.” she sincerely said.

Momentarily shocked, Meg removed her glasses to wipe the stray tears away. “Do you mean that?”

“One hundred percent.” Hayley confirmed with a nod before looking her girlfriend in the eyes. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want. But just know that I would _never_ judge you.” she added before giving Meg a delicate kiss on the cheek.

Gathering some courage, Meg swallowed. “I think I’m ready.” she decided before standing up. Taking a deep breath, she removed her chemise, revealing her naked form to Hayley for the first time.

Drinking in the sight, Hayley smiled before giving her a passionate embrace. “You’re perfect.”


	4. Hot Chocolate

**Prompt: Person B makes Hayley some hot chocolate.**

**[Meg and Hayley]**

* * *

The first time that Hayley had woken up in the middle of the night, eyes wide and whimpering, Meg had been _terrified_. She had never seen her usually calm girlfriend in such a state before and she didn't know what to do. Gingerly, she had touched Hayley's shoulder and told her that it was just a dream and that she was safe here--that was just what her instincts had told her to do; was it actually the right thing to say? The hell she knew, but Hayley did seem to calm down after that and they both managed to get some more sleep at least.

But the next time it happened, it had been _much_ worse. This time, Hayley lashed out and subsequently felt terrible for instinctively hitting Meg around the face. Knowing that it was entirely out of character for her, Meg was desperate to find out what was causing Hayley to wake up so terrified. As it turns out, she didn't have to do any digging, because Hayley outright told her that they were dreams from when she was trained as a CIA sleeper agent. Suddenly, her reactions made a lot more sense. 

In order to prevent such a thing from happening again, they tried aromatherapy, herbal tea and even sleeping pills--anything that could potentially prevent the nightmares was on the table. All of them turned out to be useless. So after that, Meg framed it differently; what if there was something she could do to help ground Hayley when it happened, since it clearly couldn't be prevented? 

When Hayley woke up trembling and wide-eyed again a couple of months later, Meg knew that now would be the best time to test her theory. She told Hayley she'd be right back before she went downstairs and made a large mug of Swiss hot chocolate, adding some whipped cream and marshmallows as a flourish--Hayley had told Meg before about how hot chocolate was her favourite comfort treat. 

Silently praying that she wouldn't ultimately be wearing the mug on her head, Meg smiled as she entered the bedroom. "I've brought you something." she sweetly told her before carefully setting the drink down on the end table next to Hayley's side of the bed. 

At the sight of the drink, Hayley's eyes lit up and as she slowly slurped her first sip, all of the tension seemed to drain from her body as her shoulders relaxed and she sat back against the headboard. "Wow. This is _exactly_ what I needed. You're the best, babe." Hayley told her as she cupped both hands around the mug. Meg then joined her again under the covers and Hayley pressed a slow, chocolaty kiss to her lips. 


	5. Hammock

**Prompt: Them accidentally (or purposefully) dozing off in a hammock together as the sun sets and the air cools down.**

**[Jeff and Hayley]**

* * *

Hayley and Jeff had been basking out in the sun all day long while sipping on margaritas and getting as stoned as they could manage. After all, they were newlywed and nearly fifty grand richer, they didn't have a single care in the world. And even _if_ they did, the combination of the booze and weed would have soon allayed any worries. 

Now night was casting its shadow and the frigidness of the breeze felt particularly welcome against their sunburnt skin. The couple had migrated over to a hammock a couple of hours earlier when the sun had still been out, deciding that it was a better option than staying on the beach with all of the holidaymakers. Really, the hammock wasn't designed for more than one person, but they had managed to squeeze into it anyway with Jeff on the bottom and Hayley on top (just the way that they both liked it). 

Hayley's eyelids felt heavy and she started drifting off, arms wrapped around Jeff as she rested her head on his soft chest. A part of Jeff wanted to go back to the hotel room because it would have been _much_ more comfortable, but he wasn't about to disturb his sleeping wife, especially with her history of insomnia. Selflessness came as naturally as breathing to him so he found a way to adapt to the situation, adjusting himself ever so slightly so that his back could at least have a better support. Thankfully, his movements hadn't disturbed Hayley. 

Knowing that she was happy made him happy--though he was already over the moon to be officially _married_ to the woman of his dreams. Everything about her brought him joy; as far as he was concerned, he was the luckiest guy in the world. Sleep soon claimed an exceptionally contented Jeff as his eyelids closed while he protectively kept one arm around the fullest part of her thighs. 


	6. Applesauce

**Prompt:Person A coming home from a cuddly date with Person B and realising that their shirt smells like them.**

**[Jeff and Hayley]**

* * *

It was long past midnight and Hayley was doing her damnedest to avoid waking up her parents as she sneaked around the house. 

Truthfully, she hadn't intended on staying out so late, but with Jeff, it was so _easy_ to lose track of time. They had gone out to a concert together and then ended up getting a bite to eat; it was a pleasantly warm evening, so they ate outside, watching the waves crash against the shore. It was only when they saw the clock tower that they gave each other a mutual look of panic as the lateness of the night dawned upon them. 

Hayley hadn't wanted the night to end and the sadness that pooled in Jeff's eyes as he dropped her off more than suggested that he felt the same way. 

As she removed her clothes from the day, she was hit with a scent that wasn't hers. It was like sweet apples underscored with an unmistakably herbal note of cheap dope. That was how Jeff _always_ smelled, even when he was fresh out of the shower. Smiling, she brought her tank top up to her nose and took a deep inhale. His aroma alone was enough to make even a seasoned stoner like herself feel a little high. 

After getting into bed, she put her tank top on the pillow next to her. It wasn't the same as him physically being there, of course, but it comforted her anyway. Until she would be able to get out to see him again, she had the memories of cheap weed and applesauce. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by Stan claiming that Jeff smells of cheap weed and applesauce, of course!


	7. Marshmallows

**Prompt: Person A and Person B roasting marshmallows on a fire.**

**[Hayley and Stan bond, volume 2]**

* * *

"Stan, she's your daughter!" Francine chided her husband, placing her hands on her curved hips for further emphasis as she made her point. She couldn't _believe_ how ignorant Stan was being about spending some quality time with Hayley. Francine had never had any difficulty bonding with either of her children--it was simple, she thought, she'd usually just ask them what they felt like doing and go along with it. But, Stan, as always, was letting his pride get in the way of having a good relationship with their eldest. 

"I know! But I don't know _how_ to bond with her." Stan exasperatedly admitted, pinching his temples in frustration. 

"Why don't you just listen to her? Ask her what she wants to do. It could be fun!" 

" _Listen_ to her?! Francine, are you out of your mind?" 

Stan loved his daughter, he really did, but their relationship was fractured at best most of the time. They almost never saw eye-to-eye on anything and he wasn't a man of compromise. The world was very black and white as far as Stan Smith was concerned and though a part of him admired Hayley for her tenacity, his own stubbornness prevented him from ever offering her some genuine praise. 

"Stanford Smith, you are going to spend time with her whether you like it or not!" Francine had been patient, but she was sick of his excuses, made evident by the formidable glare she had directed his way. "Steve and I are going away for the weekend so you're going to have to figure something out. And if I find out that you didn't do as I said, you can kiss goodbye to sex for a week." 

At that, Stan balked. Defensively holding his hands up, he reluctantly nodded. "Fine. I'll _try_ and tolerate her." 

Satisfied, Francine gave him a painfully short kiss before heading out with Steve. 

* * *

The first portion of that afternoon was excruciating. Hayley and Stan didn't speak to each other, with her not even so much as acknowledging him, burying her face in a book as she lounged on the sofa instead. 

After a few hours, it started getting to Stan. The silence was deafening and for once, he prayed that Roger would come in and just... fuck shit up. _Anything_ would be better than this and there was still the rest of the weekend to go! 

"So, uh... what do you do for fun?" Stan eventually asked, earning a confused look from Hayley. 

"Since when did you care?"

"Since now! Damn it, Hayley, I'm trying to bond with you!" 

Taken aback, Hayley put her book down and eyed her father with suspicion. "This is because of mom and Steve going away, isn't it?"

Suddenly turning sheepish, Stan rung his large hands together. "OK, fine, it is. But when was the last time we spent time together? Just you and me?"

They both had to think about that. _Really_ think. Eventually, Hayley came to a conclusion. "God, I don't know... probably not since I was 8." 

It was worse than Stan thought. Maybe Francine really did have a point. Him and Hayley used to be so close when she was a child, but that had all changed when she started rebelling against everything he believed in. Even so... shutting her down all the time probably didn't help matters, and, regardless of how wrong he thought she was, she was still his daughter. Stan silently vowed to himself to do better. "That's it! We're going camping." Stan declared, thinking back to when he would take her camping way back when. Plus, he was _pretty sure_ that she liked nature. 

"Um, okay!" Hayley agreed with a brief smile. Of _course_ she loved her father, she just couldn't stand his viewpoints and how he was always on her case for no real reason. It always felt like he didn't even try to make an effort with her and, honestly, it hurt her more than she let on. 

* * *

Once they were both sufficiently packed, Stan drove them out to the woods outside of Langley Falls. It hadn't changed much in all of the time that had passed, except for maybe a few more trees here and there. They didn't say much during the journey, but when Stan turned the radio onto the classic station and a song they always used to listen to came on, he couldn't help but feel like it was fated. They gave each other a mutual, knowing look and a smile before they both started singing, leaning closer to each other as they did so. 

It was like a weight had been lifted from both of their shoulders, only further helped by the sensation of the clean, evergreen scented air filling their lungs as they found a place to park. 

While Hayley began pitching the tent, Stan worked on setting up a fire since the sun was starting to set and they were both getting hungry. It didn't take her long to pitch the tents, so Hayley soon joined him. 

"Doesn't this take you back?" Stan asked as he produced a bag of marshmallows from the box of food they had taken. 

Hayley's eyes lit up. "You remembered the marshmallows." she couldn't help but smile at both the sight of the sugary treat and all the memories they conjured up. 

"What kind of amateur do you take me for?" he playfully barbed as he prodded one onto a stick and handed it over to her before doing the same for himself. 

At the same time, they held the marshmallows over the open flame and toasted them until they were near-blackened. 

"Thanks, dad." Hayley earnestly told him with a sincere smile before popping the morsel into her mouth. She wasn't so much as thanking him for the treat, but more so for actually spending some quality time with her. Like her father, she wasn't really one to go overboard on the sentiment; but she had a feeling that he felt the same way because she couldn't remember the last time she saw him look so genuinely relaxed. 

"Next time I might even ask what you want to do." Stan winked as he wrapped a strong arm around her and pulled her closer. 

"This _is_ what I want to do." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up being a lot longer than I envisioned, but I got really into writing Hayley and Stan's father-daughter dynamic. I love the admittedly few wholesome moments that they have together so I thought I'd really elevate it here. Hopefully, it wasn't too out of character on either end, but I had a lot of fun writing this!


	8. Dungeons, Wagons and a Birthday

When Hayley had first saw Steve playing his new Dungeons and Wagons game, she had immediately dismissed it as just one of his nerd things. But when Jeff got into it and subsequently, started paying more attention to it than her, she had wanted in. So she learned every trick in the book if only so that she could whoop his ass in cyberspace. 

Yet somewhere along the way, she had actually started _enjoying_ it. There was something so satisfying about leveling up, gaining new perks and, her personal favourite, finding loot. When she unlocked the ability to have a dragon mount, she realised that she had officially fallen in love with it. 

Long after the virtual tiff between her and Jeff, she continued playing and racking up experience points. Steve got into other games and so she didn't mention it to him again, but she kept it installed on her computer and even joined the online community. Over time, she had developed quite a reputation and had even written a guide to her tried and tested Conjurer build. 

When a little over two years had passed between Steve and Jeff inadvertently introducing her to the world of Dungeons and Wagons, a new one was going to be hitting the market soon. Best of all, it was around Steve's birthday and he had been hyping up the release. It was funny, really, because she was every bit as excited as he was, but she hadn't said anything. It wasn't that she was embarrassed, but it was more that she didn't make a big deal out of any of her hobbies or interests. Where Steve was happy to tell anybody who'd listen, Hayley kept most things to herself. But that was going to work all the more in her favour because Steve wouldn't have any idea what she planned on getting him. 

As soon as the pre-ordered copies were in her hands, she began the installation process. As it was installing on her computer, she knocked on Steve's door (past experience had taught her to _always_ knock when it came to her little brother) and kept the game behind her back. 

When he opened the door, she gave him a smile. "Hey, I've got something for you." she casually informed him as she handed the disc over. 

Steve's eyes widened behind his black frames. "Dungeons and Wagons: Path of the Arcane, no way! All the pre-orders sold out within five minutes, how did you..."

"Let's just say, I know more about Dungeons and Wagons than you think." she then turned to walk away but looked back over her shoulder. "Happy birthday, Steve."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, this was going to be about Hayley and Steve saying up all night to finish a game. It then evolved into something a little different, though, I will likely still do my original plan as a continuation of this. The name Dungeons and Wagons comes from a season 2 episode.


	9. Cocooning

**Prompt: Person B tucking the sheets around Person A as they stir during the night.**

**[Jeff and Hayley]**

* * *

Thanks to the copious amounts of indica he smoked on a regular basis, Jeff seldom had trouble sleeping. Not that much bothered him in the first place ~~\--~~ Jeff was a naturally mellow person who took things in his stride. 

That was one of the many things that Hayley adored about her husband--his placid nature helped temper her own whirlwind of thoughts. It was like he was the water to her fire, gently extinguishing her restlessness when it got out of hand. Unfortunately for the eldest of the Smith children, she hadn't been blessed with that enviable inherent calmness. No, she was always bothered about _something_ and she often took on the world's burdens, leaving her anxious and sleepless. Of course, the fact that she had recurring nightmares about Project Daycare didn't help in the sleep department, either. Often, when she couldn't sleep, she'd watch Jeff's chest peacefully rise and fall and after a while, she'd manage to settle down herself, though, she doubted that she _ever_ slept as well as he did. 

Jeff noticed more than people ever gave him credit for, especially when it came to Hayley. The rare times where he was up later than her or, rarer still, when he couldn't sleep and she could, he noticed how she stirred far more than anyone else he had ever seen. So on those rare nights, he'd always give up his share of the blankets entirely and wrap them around her instead. He didn't know why he had even started doing it in the first place, but he immediately noticed how Hayley all but stopped stirring once she had more warmth around her.

Whenever such a night happened, Jeff would wake up chilled to the bone. But as soon as Hayley noticed her shivering husband, she would immediately volunteer herself to warm him up. As far as Jeff was concerned, a cold night was _more_ than worth it. 


	10. Scars

**Prompt: them exploring each other's bodies.**

**Hayley and Meg. TW for mentions of self-harm and trauma!**

Neither Hayley or Meg could sleep ~~\--~~ Stan had recently bought a new hot tub and was downright _obsessed_ with being in it at the strangest of hours. Hayley had apologised for the eccentricities of her family more times than she could count but, thankfully, Meg always understood. They were both the closest thing to normal in their respective families and that was just one of the many things about them that worked together. 

Hayley wrapped an arm around the softness of Meg's waist and began gently exploring the underside of her arm, carefully working her way down with her fingertips. When she reached the bottom portion of her wrists, she paused as her fingertips grazed against a roughness. There were around six diagonal ridges that Hayley could feel, but before she could explore any further, Meg quickly yanked her arm away. 

Sitting up, Meg stared ahead at a poster on Hayley's wall, desperate to look anywhere but at her girlfriend. "It's disgusting." she lamented with a frown. 

Hayley also sat up, keeping some of the blanket wrapped around one arm. "No, it isn't. Scars just tell a story." 

"Yeah... the story of how I used to cut my wrists because of some bitches in school." 

Moving down the bed, Hayley put her head down and gently kissed Meg's scarred wrist. Looking up at her, she took her hand and gave it a loving squeeze. "No one will ever make you feel like that again." she resolutely said. It was true: anyone who so much as _looked_ at Meg the wrong way was in for a grilling courtesy of Hayley. "Your scars show that you're a survivor and you're _so_ much more than they could ever be." she added, meaning every word of it. 

Swallowing, Meg quickly wiped a tear away. "I don't know what I did to deserve you." she smiled before giving Hayley a tender peck on the lips that was swiftly returned with passion. 

After they broke away for air, Hayley slowly lifted up her purple nightie, revealing some gnarly scarring across her back. "Project Daycare." she told Meg, not needing to elaborate further ~~\--~~ her girlfriend understood all too well the weight that those two words carried. 

Silently, Meg traced the scars on Hayley's back, making the activist shiver. They were yet another part of the gorgeous canvas that was Hayley's body, similar to the scarring left from the piercings she had or the crude stick and poke peace sign tattoo she had on her ass... but the scars were so much more personal. _Hayley's right_ , Meg thought, scars really were the mark of a survivor. "Hey, this means that we're both survivors." Meg finally vocalised her thoughts. 

"Yeah. It does." Hayley concluded after a time before entwining herself with her girlfriend again, adoring her all the more knowing that she was even stronger than she had previously thought. 


	11. Hayley's Secret (Or: Making Pies)

Hayley Smith had a secret. 

For most people, it wouldn't be something that they would want to keep quiet about. Objectively, it was an asset, a real talent and skill that few people were blessed with. But for Hayley, it reminded her of domestic servitude, a fate that she didn't want to be shackled with. Hayley wanted to see the world and make a difference--the last thing she wanted was to play the role of a pretty little housewife with four kids tugging at her apron strings. 

So she never said a word about it. Still, she indulged in her clandestine hobby when everyone was asleep or the rare times she had the house to herself. If the rest of the family were in bed, she'd close the kitchen door and tip-toe around as she set to work on making pies. She'd take out every ounce of aggression she had as she rolled the pastry out and then she'd delicately spoon the fruity filling inside the case, smoothing it over with the back of the spoon. One of her favourite things about making them was the contrast between the aggression of making the pastry and the intricacy of making sure the filling was just the right amount. Then, she'd add the top and she'd always decorate it with the leftover dregs of pastry, fashioning them into shapes of flowers, leaves or whatever else she was in the mood for (sometimes, she felt like being extra traditional and going for a classic lattice top). Once it was in the oven, she'd sit at the kitchen table and read while she waited, sometimes even having a cup of coffee to keep herself awake. 

After around 35 minutes or so, she'd check on her creation. To ensure it was perfect every time, she used a thermometer. Of course, they always turned out perfectly because she had several years worth of experience under her apron. She had loved baking ever since she received an Easy-Bake Oven for Christmas one year. Naturally, her first creations were a mess and tasted like crap, but she persisted until they were edible, at least. By the time she had her first baking class in school, she was something of a prodigy. But by then, she had an idea of what she wanted, and more importantly, what she _didn't_ want out of life. The last thing she wanted was for anybody to think that she was trying to fit into society's narrow-minded gender roles and she knew that she'd never hear the end of it from her father. She could practically _hear_ him say that she wasn't really a feminist because she so clearly liked being in the kitchen. Hayley refused to be a stereotype of what a woman 'ought to' be, damn it. 

With no one around, she didn't have to worry about what anyone might say or think. One year, she decided to enter a local competition under the name Carlotta Monterey--she wanted a name that could never be tied to her own. Apparently, it worked because her family were none the wiser to her baking escapades. She made sure that her many blue ribbons and anything even remotely related to pies went to a P.O. box. 

But, most of the time, her pies went to the local homeless shelters. Once she had cleaned the kitchen up, she'd take the pies up to her room and drop them off the following morning (it was usually stupidly late by that point, especially if she had made more than one). As soon as the apron was off, she was back to being Hayley Smith, who, as far as everyone else was concerned, wouldn't even know where to begin with baking a pie. 


	12. Father

The weight of Francine's words hung heavily in the stifling air of the hospital but heavier, still, in Stan Smith's heart. 

As Stan looked through the glass window, he swallowed thickly at the sight of his only daughter hooked up to machines and an IV that was pumping nourishment through her veins. It looked as if all of the life had been drained out of her: she was pale as a corpse and the vitality, her _joie de vivre_ , had vanished, leaving only a vessel in its hollow wake. At this moment, Stan would have done _anything_ for her to chide him over how supposedly wrong he was about something or for her to play her terrible rap music so loudly that the bass would shake the very foundations of the house. 

Jeff was the one who was holding her, concern etched all over his usually docile features. Stan couldn't help but feel like it ought to be _him_ who was in there with her, but he didn't want to cause a scene (he was sure that if he did get in there, he wouldn't let go of her). There was a good chance that he was going to have to donate a kidney any moment now and time was of the essence, so he knew that he couldn't let his emotions get the better of him. Or at least, that was what he thought until Francine dropped the biggest bombshell of his life.

At first, her words barely registered. But when they hit, _God_ , did they hit like a tonne of bricks. Could it really be that he wasn't Hayley's father, he wondered? Surely, she _had_ to be his. She had the same head of jet black hair, after all, and certainly, his stubbornness. But the more he looked at her, the more he couldn't help but wonder. Hair aside, she didn't really look anything like him--she was almost identical to Francine, blessed with the same delicate features and cerulean blue eyes. The petty part of him felt somewhat vindicated that she didn't take after her father, whether it was him or some other guy. Was the fact that they had almost nothing in common just yet more proof of him not being her father?

No, he had to be rational about it. They may have fought like cat and dog, but they did have one thing in common: their passion for what they believed was right, even if their beliefs were diametrically opposed. Yet, the times where they _did_ manage to find common ground, they were an unstoppable force. Besides, it was normal for a child to barely resemble one of their parents, wasn't it? And even if she wasn't his biologically, he had still raised her for nineteen years. _No one_ else could take that away. Stan's head throbbed with all of the thoughts that circled back and forth inside his mind; whispers of doubts creeping in and gutting him each time. 

Stan wasn't somebody who liked to reflect much, but as he stared through the window at the sad sight, it was as if nineteen years had flashed before his eyes. He started thinking about the first night him and Francine brought her home from the hospital. Francine had been exhausted and when Hayley woke up in the night, Stan desperately tried to get her to quieten. Eventually, in a last-ditch effort, he wrapped her up, carefully placed her in her stroller and took her outside. Slowly, he walked her through lower Langley and told her all about the sights along the way. After a while, she fell asleep and she was still soundly sleeping when he returned home at gone six in the morning.

Of course, that was only one of the many, many times that he had spent with his baby girl--it didn't matter that she was an adult who got up to things that made him shudder at the thought, she was still his little girl. He regretted not saying it anywhere near as often as he ought to, but he loved her and was proud of her. The way how she'd always stand up for what she believed in (even if he disagreed with her 99% of the time) was admirable; him and Francine had raised a fighter and he _prayed_ to whatever deity was up there that she had enough fight left in her to get through this.

For nineteen years, he had been there for every single thing. There were the comparatively small moments like changing her diapers as a baby and, when she hit puberty, making sure that there was always ice cream in the house for when she was due to have her period, stuff that Hayley didn't even remember or know about. Then there were the bigger moments:the time when he took her out to Africa just so she could see the elephants on safari and he ended up saving her from a poacher who she had ended up pissing off. Hayley's compassion was near-unlimited and he really couldn't have asked for a better daughter. 

Because, truly, that was the essence of it. Even if she turned out not to be his biological flesh and blood, she was still _his_ daughter: the activist, the trooper, and most of all, the best thing that had ever happened to him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hurt my feelings with this one! I had been wanting to explore the potential paternity issue for a while so this just kind of wrote itself. 
> 
> The stroller story was inspired by what my dad did for me irl and the elephant story was inspired by elephants being Hayley's favourite animal!


	13. Sweet Blindness

In all of Roger's 1601 years of living, _never_ before had he had the privilege of hearing such a beautiful sound. Every cell of his being was desperate to know who was behind the honeyed voice that caressed his hearing glands as he searched the house in attempt to locate the source. 

Eventually, his search led him towards the bathroom, of all places. Inching the door open, he was inches away from the chanteuse who was veiled by the shower curtain; only the flimsy piece of polyester hung between him and his newfound obsession. 

🎵 _four leaves on a clover_  
 _I'm just a bit of a shade hungover_  
 _come on baby do a slow float_  
 _you're a good lookin' riverboat_  
 _and ain't that sweet-eyed blindness good to me_ 🎵

Whatever it was that she was singing, it had an old-timey feel to it and she had serious _pipes_ , hitting each high with an effortless seduction underscoring her tone. Such a talent was really quite special and it was _exactly_ the kind of thing he needed to draw in customers to his bar. Not only had he found the answer to his marketing woes, but he had found love in whoever that voice belonged to (he was sure that it was Francine, but he couldn't categorically rule out Hayley either). 

Suddenly, the water stopped flowing and Roger froze, knowing he was about to have an exceptionally awkward encounter. _How long had he been there anyway?_

* * *

Peeling the curtain back, Hayley was about to dry herself off with a towel when she met eyes with Roger.

"Roger, what the hell?!" she growled as she attempted to preserve her dignity by pulling the curtain over her naked body. 

With a lopsided smile, Roger stepped forward, the alien having zero concept of personal space, as always. "Hayley, I didn't know that you were keeping such a talent from me." 

If she hadn't been blushing before, she _definitely_ was now. 

"What would you say if I offered you the chance to sing at my bar? And I'll pay you this time." 

Raising her eyebrows, Hayley contemplated the offer for a few seconds. Nothing with Roger ever went right, but, she couldn't deny that she really did need the money. Even if he didn't stay true to his word (which, honestly, she was expecting), it could be a good opportunity to try and make some connections. _What the hell, it wasn't like she had anything better to do._ "Alright, fine." she concluded after a moment. 

"Great!" Roger exclaimed as he clapped his long hands together. "Oh, and wear something nice for a change, maybe try a bra." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that Hayley was singing in the shower is Sweet Blindness by Laura Nyro, I thought that the song would be perfect for her!


	14. #1 Dad

Over the years, Christmas had lost a lot of its magic for Hayley Smith. 

Long gone were the days where she would stay up for hours writing and revising wishlists for Santa, hoping that she had made the cut for the nice list. Sometimes, she wished that she could recapture the innocence that she once held before cynicism had calcified her childhood wonder. 

That wasn't to say that she _hated_ Christmas, not by any means--she liked the cooler weather and how it was the one day of the year where people tended to be just a little kinder to each other. Hell, even though she would never admit it, she even liked how her mother still insisted on having a family photoshoot to put on the greeting cards they sent out every year. The cards would later make their way to everyone they knew, usually accompanied by some bad 'Smithmas' pun, written in a tacky font. 

But, what she really loathed was the hyper-commercialisation and how people like her father waged a faux war on what they thought was a threat to traditionalism. When Stan would host the committee meetings with the local church, Hayley would always bail and volunteer at a homeless shelter instead of listening to the crap they espoused. Hayley had long denounced Christianity and, indeed, any form of organised religion--she didn't align herself with any particular group; the only belief that she really held dear was that of trying to be a good person. 

Still, even though she had a lot of problems with the holiday, that didn't stop her from doing her best to enjoy it. In fact, she even went so far as to hold her tongue when it came to politics on the big day itself, something that definitely _didn't_ come easily to her. Every year, she always found a gift for her parents, Steve, and Jeff. Usually, it would just be something small since she was still a college student with a limited budget. 

* * *

Though she usually found gifts for everybody within the first two weeks of December, she was behind schedule this year as she still hadn't found one for her dad.

When she finally had some time off college, she headed downtown and trudged through a countless number of shops to find the perfect gift. Hayley wasn't exactly sure of what it was she was looking for, the only thing she knew was that she'd know it when she saw it. 

Just as she was hitting the limits of her patience after hours of searching, she found a mug in a gift shop. It was a mass-produced, tacky thing ~~\--~~ a giant blue mug that had '#1 Dad' written on it in big white lettering. But, somehow, it made her smile; despite the many disagreements that they had, Hayley really did think the world of him and would have always called him a great dad without any hesitation. 

So, she purchased the mug and wrapped it up before putting the box under the tree. Hayley wasn't the best at wrapping gifts since she almost always misjudged the amount of paper she'd need, but she, nonetheless, did it anyway, figuring that it only had to be done once a year. 

* * *

On Christmas morning, the Smiths all opened their gifts with the childlike gusto that only came at Christmas. The mug was the last gift that Stan opened and it was the gift that gave him the biggest smile of all. "Come here, you." he encouraged Hayley before wrapping her into a bear hug, beyond grateful to have the #1 daughter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, as always, for reading! I wanted to touch on something seasonally appropriate. 
> 
> In case I don't publish another chapter before the end of the year:   
> Lo Saturnalia and Happy Holidays to all of my lovely readers--may 2021 be a better year for all of us. ❤️

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for checking out this series! Hayley is pretty much my favourite character ever to write and I've always got lots of ideas involving her so that's how all of this started. I'm also open to prompts/suggestions @ hungtotheover on tumblr!


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